Guster
gets away from me. Like the Baltimore Colts, they steal my heart and
steal away from my city under the cover of darkness with the promise of
a return I never see. And I get over it. I move away from the band
while their records, regretfully, collect dust on my shelf, or buried in
the back sleeve of the book I keep in my trunk. Their unplanned return
is a visit from a high school friend: We laugh, we share jokes and it
doesn't seem like five years have passed. We part with empty promises
of keeping in touch, but we both know that equates to liking the
other's Facebook posts.

Frontman Adam Gardner acknowledged, "We haven't played in Alabama since
we opened for Skynyrd at City Stages. Did we really open for Skynyrd
in Alabama?" Though not technically true (the band played the inaugural
Hangout Festival in Gulf Shores
just last year), the audience at Workplay's Soundstage felt it had been
even longer. And Monday's torrential rains couldn't wash away a
respectable crowd's showing, and early. Given circumstance, the room,
more than half full before openers Jukebox
the Ghost wrapped its 45-minute set, was alive with loyal fans of
the 30-something set eager to dance, unafraid of their mother's
warning they would catch cold in those damp clothes.

Guster began its hour-and-45-minute-long set at 9:15. Both Workplay
rooms are generous, offering some of the city's most beautiful sound,
but the band brought insurance, with two engineers running two separate
soundboards, spaced 30-feet apart at the back of the room. During the
course of more than 20 songs, the band covered nearly two decades and
six studio albums, despite Gardner's hollow warning, "We're Guster and
we're going to play a lot of songs tonight from all of our albums.
Except your favorite one. We're not gonna play anything from that."

The band, now joined by former Blue Merle frontman Luke
Reynolds, barreled through its most memorable tracks: "Barrel of a
Gun," "Airport Song," "Happier" and "Come Downstairs and Say Hello."

But some of the night's most-inspired performances were in live
versions of tracks from their October release, Easy Wonderful.
Gardner, who spend as much time on keyboard as he did at the stage's
center, picked up what was best described as a baritone ukelele for the
set's third tune and new record's fourth, "This Could All Be Yours."
Many other new tracks made, at least, their Birmingham live debut,
including the first two singles, "Do You Love Me?" and "Architects and
Engineers;" the former is, however bold a statement, the best track
Brian Wilson forgot to write.

"Barrel of a Gun" closed the first set, as Gardner announced, "That's
our last song. We're going to walk off the stage now. Goodnight!" The
band, standing in the center of the stage still lit, exchanged a
30-second conversation before announcing its return. "We don't want to
walk down all of those stairs and come back. We want to thank you for
supporting our band. We're far away from home and we don't get here
often. Thank you."

Homewood's Saw's BBQ got a mention before the
band began again: "We also want to thank Saw's barbecue for that
amazing mayonnaise, buttery white sauce they serve. I don't know what
it is, but I just want to slather myself in it."

The first, four-song encore led with the new tracks "That's No Way to
Get to Heaven" and the aforementioned single "Architects and Engineers,"
and closed with "Careful" and "Hang On"--with Gardener announcing this
time, "Okay, we're going to walk almost all the way off stage this
time." They did. All the way. Grabbing acoustic guitars and unplugging
it all--microphones included--and moving to the front of the stage. The
houselights turned on, and the band shared one of the more intimate
moments seen in similar settings, singing along with the crowd for a
stripped version of "Jesus on the Radio."

The notable exclusion from Monday's set? "Fa Fa." Maybe it was an
unspoken, hopeful promise to Birmingham--to never be the same again, to
keep in touch.